


Cast No Shadow

by missherlocked



Series: The Voice AU [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabbles, Multi, The Voice!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missherlocked/pseuds/missherlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Generation of Miracles, The Voice style.  Drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Kuroko no Basuke and The Voice, nor I make any profit from this.   
> Unbeta-ed. Help would be welcomed. Title taken from Oasis' song: Cast No Shadow.

It was a little bit hard to determine, when he sang, since he had got the softest voice that somebody could imagine.  The octave that he could reach made the judges thought he was a girl.  No one turned around until the very last second, when Akashi pushed the button out of the blue.

“Interesting,” the Emperor’s Ears commented.

Momoi squealed.  “Had I known you’re male I would’ve turned around!”

Kuroko raised the microphone to his mouth, but he didn’t say anything.   Momoi leaned forward, as if doing that would make Kuroko magically talk.  There was a second of silence too long for a TV show like this.

“What’s your name?” asked Nijimura.

“Kuroko Tetsuya,” the contestant said.  He didn’t look nervous, but he didn’t look like he was comfortable either under the blinding lights.  His speaking voice was boyish, and when he stated his age—16—the judges found out that he was very soft-spoken and polite as well.  Dressed in white cardigan and blue-stripes t-shirt, you would have thought he was younger. 

“I’m looking forward to practice with him,” said Akashi on that little interview after Kuroko’s blind audition.  He was as impatient as a chef seeing a fresh, raw truffle: you cook it right, and you’d get the most refined food in the world.

When it was Aomine Daiki’s turn, all four judges turned around.  His physique was as strong as his voice.  Tall, dark, and handsome, Kise—former model turned singer—was sure Aomine would sell well.  The judges fought over him like kindergarteners over a new toy.  Everybody promised Aomine in their own way that they would make him win in for sure, but nobody could beat Akashi in the end.  When Akashi said, “I will make you win,”, no soul couldn’t _not_ believe him, as if it was a much as a fact as the sun rose in the east and the earth was round like a ball. 

* * *

 

Akashi talked to his team face to face after the slots were filled.  Kuroko was as quiet as he was on the stage, a trait that wouldn’t do well in the industry.  It also didn’t help that it was hard to notice him, short that he was.  The redhead was reminded of the smallest matryoshka doll in a set, whose unblinking eyes were so round and big it covered half of its face. 

“Are you going to be able to put emotions to your singing?”

Only then Akashi caught an expression on Kuroko’s face.  “Of course,” Kuroko said, with conviction seemingly misplaced on his countenance. 

Still, it wasn’t enough.  Akashi thought it was only fair to put the strongest contestant with the weakest on the Battle Round.  The Voice wasn’t enough to make Kuroko a star, and Akashi hated to leave a product unfinished.  Kuroko had to be eliminated first.

* * *

 

The practice went very, very well.  It was difficult to believe that someone so unexpressive could show so much emotions when he sang.  Another delightful surprise: Aomine and Kuroko duet was good- so good that if Akashi didn’t know better he would’ve accused those two had already met and practiced since months ago.  Kuroko’s voice completed Aomine’s in places that Akashi hadn’t known missing. They harmonized like they were born to do it—or, accurately speaking, Kuroko harmonized so beautifully, following Aomine easily when he improvised and picking up the note when he dropped it. 

Raw diamond was a diamond nonetheless.

It was ten minutes to nine in the evening.  Akashi took his cellphone from his pocket.  He had to make some necessary call.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles are so much fun. Unbeta-ed. I own and make nothing from writing this.

Aomine hadn’t expected this guy to come right at him and said, “Hello, my name is Kuroko Tetsuya,” followed by, “and I’m going to make you win this competition,” like he was a fucking prude somebody whose actions and opinions actually mattered in the show, because goddamn, they just passed the Blind Audition, it wasn’t like they were famous already.

But Aomine had listened to Kuroko’s voice backstage several days ago, and even though raw, Kuroko had had potential. 

“And what do you mean by that, you want to get yourself kicked out or something?”

“I would prefer not to,” said Kuroko politely.  “But I would not be able to win on the next round anyways.  Your voice is something I can ever wish for, and more.  It has a strong character and power and overall- it’s- it’s just lovely,”

Even Aomine wanted to blush, hearing that.  He didn’t understand how someone could be so straight-faced saying stuffs that could be misinterpreted as something else—rather alike to a confession of an undying love, perhaps—to a total stranger.  (Which was totally fine, because Kuroko was rad, as Aomine would find out later; and he was quite cute for a guy.  If only he was less ghostly.)

Besides, Aomine didn’t do lovely.  If there was something lovely, that would be Kuroko’s voice, tender and sonant, like the soft cream in a macaron.

“If I am going to go home on the Battle Round, least I can do is to make your singing shine even brighter.”

“Stop saying things like that,”

“But it’s true,” Kuroko insisted.

Aomine looked at Kuroko, who seemed at home in front of the studio’s keyboard.  He had been singing an old children’s nursery rhyme when the taller man came in, thin fingers running across the bars like dragonflies’ wings fluttering on calm river water.  Aomine never saw somebody who loved music as much as this person.

“You are going to stay in the competition,” said Aomine in a tone that indicated the conversation was over.  Kuroko looked like he was going to argue, but in the end he didn’t say anything.

Aomine was more of a guitar person.

“Play something for me,” he told the other as he tried a note right beside where Kuroko’s hand lied, so that he could compare their fingers.  Whereas Aomine’s were dark and almost giant-like, Kuroko’s barely had more color than the ivory bar. 

“What kind of music do you like?”

As he said so, Kuroko already started playing.  It was an intro to a piece that Aomine heard in a movie. 

“Mhhm.  Anything, I suppose.  I like bands.”

“Like Muse?  Coldplay, that sort of thing?”

“That works, too.  What is your kind of music?”

“Well,” Kuroko started, fingers now spinning the notes of a famous Coldplay song, “I like…”

(Aomine would never, ever forget Akashi’s surprised expression upon hearing their first duet later on.)

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Kuroko no Basuke and The Voice nor I make any profit from this.  
> Unbeta-ed. Help would be welcomed.

When they finished their duet, the auditorium was silent, as if the audience was unbelieving of what they just heard.  Somebody yelled from Team Nijimura’s rows, “Oh my fucking God,” and it was like the deity Himself signaled them to clap, and so they did.  Thunderously.  Aomine wasn’t as well-mannered as Kuroko, who bowed his head politely under the cheers, so he preened and waved, flexing his muscles as he was doing so.  In his sleeveless black hoodie his biceps were showed off quite well.

The judges mostly showered them with praises. “Tetsuya,” Akashi had taken to calling Kuroko by his first name by the end of the practice, and Aomine had found himself slipping into it as well.  Tetsu, as Aomine had decided to call him, for he was enjoying the not-quite nose-crunch the other had shown on his otherwise blank countenance the first time the taller tried the nickname on his tongue.  “You’re performing very well tonight.  It took both parties to be able to do a perfect sync and beautiful harmony, but without your technique that song wouldn’t have been a hundred percent.”

The coaches conversed more between themselves, talking about the finesse that Kuroko had introduced to Aomine’s wildness, for the lack of a better word.  Aomine only lent an ear to them, because he was more interested in studying Kuroko’s visage in the bright light.  There was a flattering blush on his cheeks, one that led Aomine’s train of thoughts going somewhere certainly not appropriate for the occasion (he was essentially a running train full of hormones, and Aomine was, sadly, easy).  Otherwise, Kuroko looked as serene as ever.  Relieved, too.  In the week that was given for them to exercise, Aomine had dwelled copiously in the art of reading Kuroko’s face.  It was difficult but necessary for the duet- Aomine hadn’t wanted to give uncomfortable notes for Kuroko to start with.

Too absorbed in his musings Aomine only came to when the emcee announced his name as the winner of the Battle Round.  The encouraging noises from the audience were suddenly not as satisfying anymore. 

“Thank you,” said Aomine, only because Kuroko sent him an impassive look that clearly meant to scold his lack of mannerisms.  He extended an arm, long enough to go past the emcee and muss Kuroko’s hair (it was softer than his hair).  He must have dawdled too long because the emcee was announcing that he was permitted to go backstage.

It was customary to hug the coach if a contestant was to win.  Written somewhere in The Voice Standard of Operation: if and only if the coach wasn’t Akashi.  Aomine wasn’t about to fight the norm for once, so he settled for a handshake instead. 

“Coach,” Aomine grinned, to which Akashi replied: “Expect more vigorous training in the future.”

Beside Akashi’s revolving chair there was Kise, standing up and offering a high-five.  Aomine made sure his microphone was deactivated by tapping the head with his thumb harshly.  No sound came out.  Reaching Kise, he took the high-five and pulled the blond into a manly one-arm hug.  On Kise’s right ear, he whispered, “Give another chance to Tetsu.” 

When Aomine pulled back Kise was winking at him.  To Momoi Aomine also gave a hug, on her ear he parroted what he said to Kise, and the only female couch mouthed something along, I know.

(Aomine skipped Nijimura, though he shook his hand.)

Aomine didn’t think this was cheating.  Kuroko was a really, really good singer.  It wasn’t his fault that his voice was kind of tricky—the judges was surprised that Kuroko had been able to pull a head voice, because with his tone of voice it was expected that he would play it safe. 

(“Do you have any other ace up your sleeve?” asked Nijimura, regarding Kuroko’s shocking revelation that he was autodidact. 

The answer wasn’t an affirmative.  The panel was impressed nonetheless.  Aomine was praying that they were impressed enough to consider a steal.)

Quickly Aomine made his way around to get into the waiting room, where contestants who were finished were asked to loiter. He was greeted with congratulations as soon as he arrived.  From the TV, the emcee was proclaiming, “…to the coaches that there is an option to steal Kuroko-kun-“

Out of the blue, there was the swoosh sound that Aomine had come to be familiar with.  Aomine pounced to the couch, shoving Takao aside to get a better seat.  A judge had stolen Kuroko.

“That’s cheating!”  Momoi shrilled.  “Kiyoshi-san wasn’t even finished, you can’t press the button just yet!”

“But I want Kurokocchi to be in my team so badly!” Kise cried out.  The camera switched to Nijimura’s close up, showing his raised eyebrow and his weird-looking lips-purse rather dramatically.  It was well-known that Kise didn’t give out the suffix –chi easily.  Nijimura’s startled face summed up everybody’s feelings in the auditorium.

“He’ll be better off in my team,” argued Momoi.  “I have worked with singers who have unique voice extensively before.  I believe I would be the best coach for _Tetsu-kun_.”  Of course, what she really meant to say was: I am a far more experienced singer than you are, Kise, so fuck off.  It was true- Kise hadn’t been a singer for a long period of time, though he had been very successful.  Aomine would pick Momoi any time.  Besides, she had a good rack on her.

But Kise wasn’t backing down.  He switched tactics by turning to Kuroko, making moon eyes at him, then to camera: “I have been in Kurokocchi’s place, not a long time ago.  As a voice actor slash model turned a singer, I wasn’t taken seriously.  More than anyone, I will be able to guide Kurokocchi more in this industry.”

Their bickering went past the time slot for Aomine’s and Kuroko’s performance, so the emcee cut them off.  Eventually Kiyoshi decided that the coaches could only steal after he finished saying his offer, so Kise’s steal was null.  The emcee started again, then; the background music rose steadily with the tension, the camera zoomed out to film the whole hall, the audience paying rapt attention…

 "To make it fair, I am going to start counting down!" announced the emcee cheerfully.  "Three... two..." The audience counted with him by then.  Aomine couldn't keep his ass on the couch out of impatience.  Who is it, he thought, he'd rather have Nijimura...  He was actually a good coach, beating Akashi in one season.  Aomine would've gone to him also if Nijimura wasn't as stiff as a ruler; he probably had more chance getting Akashi out for date than asking Nijimura to reconsider Kuroko. 

"One!"

The moment of truth: Nijimura pressed the button first.

The crowds cheered wildly, noone had seen that coming.  On the other side of the judges' row, Akashi smirked, as if he already foresaw the recent turn of events. That bastard, Aomine cussed.  He probably did. 

 

 

 


End file.
